Book Preview - Credo's Legacy

Chapter One

            I sat across from a man who had a white smile painted on his face. White and red circles surrounded charcoal grey eyes that misted over as he vehemently denied kidnapping his ex-wife’s latest boyfriend. As he spoke, he fiddled with the curly orange wig he held in his lap.

            We were sitting under the stands of the Pima County Rodeo Grounds in a changing room reserved for the clowns. His eyes shifted between the detective’s badge attached to my belt and the Glock holstered next to it. I wasn’t surprised when he threw the wig violently against the wall and stood up.

            I sat back and crossed one leg over the other. “We’re not done, Carl. Sit down.”

            “Am I under arrest or what?” He glared down at me, his hands resting on his hips, his legs spread apart, ready for a fight. I almost smiled at the grown man in clown paint wearing blue jeans four sizes too big. When I looked up and saw tears in his eyes, I got back to business.

            “Carl, listen. I investigate these kinds of cases every day. I realize you and your ex are going through a messy custody battle, and I also know that when children are involved, I have to do a very careful, thorough investigation. I can’t do that unless you talk to me. You’re free to leave if you want, and like I told you earlier, you’re free to talk to a lawyer. I’m not here to railroad anybody, but accusations have been made, and I need to look into them.”       I waited patiently until he pulled his chair back and sat down.

He dug his elbows into his knees and rested his forehead in the palms of his hands. After a few minutes, he raised his head. “Look, Detective Wolfe, you’ve been asking me questions for an hour. What more could you possibly need to know? My ex made up this whole kidnapping story to paint me as a bad guy because she wants sole custody of our kids. I love my two little girls. No father’s ever loved his kids more than I love mine.” The tears spilled over, and he reached up and wiped them with his sleeve, leaving a long smear in his grease paint. “I didn’t kidnap anyone, and I won’t just roll over and let her have my girls without a fight.” He rubbed his face again, using the time to compose himself.

I hated this type of case, a divorce where the kids become victims, and one or both of the parents are dragged through the dirt. “The girls travel around the country with you, going to rodeos every other month, right?”

            “Yes, Ma’am, and they’re with their mother the other months. I’m not sure what we’ll do once they get into school, but right now, it works okay.”

            He was right. We’d been talking for almost an hour, and so far, he hadn’t told me anything I didn’t already know. “When do you plan to leave Tucson for your next rodeo?”

            “I’ll be here until the middle of next month; then I head up to Montana with the girls.” His eyes were sad black dots staring out of his happy clown mask. I offered him my hand. He wiped his sweaty palm on his pants before enveloping my hand in his.

            I walked to the door, looked back, and smiled. “Don’t worry, Carl, I haven’t convicted too many innocent people in my career. I’ll keep in touch, okay?” I left him in the clown room under the stands and walked through the breezeway where concession stands selling hotdogs loaded with cholesterol lined the walls.

As soon as I stepped out from under the stadium seats, I saw my best friend since forever, Megan O’Reilly, standing outside the gates with a group of protestors holding signs decrying the use of animals in rodeos. “Oh, good grief.”

I started toward her but stopped when her friends saw my badge and began chanting louder and waving their signs at me. News cameras turned my way, hoping for some kind of story they could run on the five o’clock edition.

Megan laughed as she caught my eye.

I motioned for her to meet me a little way down the chain link fence so we could talk away from all of the noise.

            She walked over carrying her sign high so the cameras could get a good shot. “Hi, Alex. Long time no see.” She said it like we hadn’t just eaten ice cream and watched a movie together the night before.

            I leaned forward and grabbed a square of chain link. “You didn’t tell me you were gonna be here today. You havin’ fun?”

            “Yup. A bunch of cowboys came through, and one of ’em asked for my phone number. Boy, did he have a cute, tight butt!”

            “Did you give it to him?”

            She tilted her head sideways, then pulled down her sunglasses. “Well, duh! Do I look stupid or something?” Her bushy hair stuck out from her head like a carrot-colored tumbleweed, and her fair skin glowed beet red everywhere except for the two patches of white hiding under her sunglasses.

            “You better put on sunscreen, or they’re gonna mistake you for a rodeo clown and throw you in with the bulls.”

She glanced over my shoulder and barely raised her chin to let me know someone was coming.

I turned and smiled at Sgt. Pete Dougherty, who’d been assigned to keep an eye on the protestors. “Hey, Pete, what’s up?”

            Pete and Megan had met each other a few months earlier during a birthday party for our 93-year-old friend, Mrs. Highland, while all three of them were laid up in University Medical Center. Pete smiled, shook his head, and looked at Megan. “I thought I recognized that redhead yelling at me from behind the fence. How ya doin’, Megan? Alex, good to see you.”

            “I’m just leaving. I wanted to take a minute to laugh at Meg first.”

            Megan stuck out her tongue as she shook her sign at us.

            Pete nodded in the direction of the Police Command Post. “The lieutenant’s afraid you’re gonna start some kind of incident, Alex, so he asked me to come over and make sure everything was all right. He’s worried sick he’ll get some bad press that’ll ruin his chances for promotion. What a dweeb.” He shook his head, then looked pointedly at Megan. “And that stays right here, or you’ll get me in trouble.”

            I patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. Megan may be a nut, but she knows when to keep things to herself.” I cocked one eye at her. “Right, Gertrude?” Gertrude had been her grandmother’s and her mother’s middle names, and her mom had saddled Megan with it to carry on the family tradition. She hated it.

            Pete raised his brows. “Gertrude?”

            Megan picked up her sign and pounded it on the fence. “You are dog meat, Frieda!”

            Okay, so I hate my middle name too.

The reporters saw her hit the fence with the sign, and once again, all the cameras swung our way.

The three of us looked at the lieutenant, who started toward us.

            I turned back to Megan. “Smile pretty for the cameras. We don’t want to be the headline news story today, do we?”

            She pretended to laugh while I put on a happy face for the press.

When the lieutenant walked up, we were busy comparing notes on the effects of cow manure on tomato plants. He casually leaned against the fence, letting the media know there really wasn’t a story here. “Any problems here, Ma’am? I hope Detective Wolfe hasn’t said anything offensive.”

            She innocently batted her eyes. “Oh, I’m sure she’ll be glad to take back what she said, won’t you, Detective Wolfe?”

            I stared at Megan for a minute, then shifted my gaze to the lieutenant whose eyes were boring into mine with all kinds of directed meaning. I crossed my arms. “Miss O’Reilly, I am so sorry I made fun of your pet cow, Gertrude, dying the way she did. If you’d like to split the cost of butchering her, I’d like to have some fresh meat for my holiday celebrations with my family.”

            Megan blinked.

I could tell she was having a hard time keeping a straight face. She loved animals, but she definitely loved her steak and hamburgers, too.

The lieutenant dropped his hands to his side and stared at me, clearly not believing what he’d just heard.

Feigning shock and outrage, Megan picked up her sign and rejoined her friends in the picket line.

            I clapped the lieutenant on the shoulder. “Well, L.T., I’m all finished with my clown interview. I’m heading back to the office. See you around.” I winked at Pete behind the lieutenant’s back as I walked out to the parking lot to find my car. They were still standing next to the fence when I exited the lot, heading North on Sixth Avenue toward our office.